


It's High Tide

by goldengoddess



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Marine Biologists, Mermaids, Oops, Request Meme, also under: was supposed to be 2 pages but now its 10, mccree Does Not like the ocean, mentions of macgyver, moving to california, no banana slug kissing, not spellchecked oops, was going to be a fairytale au but it became an 80s au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7285852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldengoddess/pseuds/goldengoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCree decides to move out of New Mexico. Although he's not in love with the ocean, he meets some pretty eccentric friends. And a mermaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's High Tide

**Author's Note:**

> alternate titles:  
> "Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy" and also "sorry theres no banana slug kissing i wrote about mccree living in california and i didnt fucking fit in kissing slugs im a mess"
> 
> happycake requested:  
> "Ok maybe like an au with wanderer mccree who happens upon mermaid (sea dragon creature whatever mythical half person half sea creature things there are that exist) hanzo and then cute fluff and shenanigans occur"  
> I'm sorry I only realized what u meant by wanderer after I wrote about mccree watching macgyver anyways

 

The water was- well, it was unsettling. Jesse McCree was not from the coast, and he was not the kind to be inclined to the coast. Sure, there were plenty of times were he laid out under the stars with his friends as a kid, talking about running away to golden California, to the beaches, to the sea, but when push came to shove, he was fine with the desert. The stark red and oranges of dust and dirt, cactus, shrub, desert tree, and all. It was good, comfortable, he had a cactus patch on his jacket (It had sunglasses on it). But the day had come and New Mexico was no longer his home. He was anxious and ready to roam the world, his proverbial oyster.

A few miles south of San Francisco was where he’d decided to bunk. His great aunt’s lady friend had a summer house right on the hills there, one she’d promised (written down to his request) to him for the rest of the year. It was small, but sweet, a shade of sun bleached lavender, not out of the ordinary against the neighbors lime green shed and stark orange home. She had even made for the neighbor's kids to leave a plate of cookies on the kitchen counter. He scarfed two down and unpacked what little he brought: some clothing, his dad’s old hat, and a toothbrush. There was more in the car, but he decided to leave it there. Instead, he cozied on down the obnoxious forest green couch and huddled up with the throw blanket to watch the only VHSs left by the television: the first three seasons of MacGyver. He could do that.

But before he could jam the first tape in, he realized the door was open. The wind from the ocean, down the dunes and across the sand, was wailing. He stood up and walked to the glass door, closing it with a thump, only to have it fly back into his face. McCree stepped out onto the balcony it led to, overlooking the sea. He shivered, wishing his coat wasn’t packed in the car. It was so much cooler there than Santa Fe.

Something clicked.

He was going to go to the ocean.

He rumbled through his car for his jacket and fished out the pocket a pack of cigarettes, plucking one out and sliding it between his teeth. As he plunged his fists into his pockets he walked towards the beach, clambering over the grassy dunes before stopping at the crest. He swallowed. The vastness of the ocean was nothing like the vastness of the desert. In the desert you could drive ten miles and hit a gas station. In the ocean you’d hit a shark.

Now McCree knew sharks weren’t very likely to eat humans, and rather liked the beasts, even though he could only get through half of Jaws. But, the idea of things bigger than him with more teeth than he’d ever seen was not pleasant. And drowning along with it? Even worse. His throat was dry and he found himself thirsty in front of the monolith of water, but kept walking against all the screaming in his head.

He tried not to think of slippery fins and those glassy fish eyes as he kicked off his shoes, grabbing them so they wouldn’t be engulfed by the waves, and marched defiantly into the recessing water. He stood still, waiting for it to come back.

“You live in the purple house, love?”

McCree screamed.

“Oh, sorry, dear, didn’t mean to scare you!” He looked at the girl beside him, only after jumping in the opposite direction, straight into the water. He ran forward to where it was dry, panting like a sick dog. She looked pleasant enough, but with a big smirk she said, “Oh, looks like someone afraid of water?”

“Now, listen here, you li’l punk-“

“I’m out of college, you know.”

“Mhm, and I’m the president.” McCree responded, trying to put his shoes back on, only filling them with sand.

“Wait a second, now,” She whispered, looking out beyond McCree.

“What’s that- Oh, shit-“ He turned to face the wind, a huge wave building before crashing close, sending water up to their knees. The girl seemed undisturbed, while he scrambled back again.

“So do you?”

McCree blinked, “Do I what.”

“Live in the purple house?” She nodded towards it on the hill.

“Yeah- yes, I do, why do you- where do you live?”

She smiled, “Oh, just in Chez Orange. The name’s Lena, what’s yours?”

Lena definitely _looked_ like someone who lived in an orange house. With her wild windblown hair and huge glasses-bordering on goggles- she was either a mad scientist who did track, or someone who lived in an orange house with a lime green shed.

“Jesse McCree,” He shook her hand.

                “Hm, you sound like a cowboy, you know that?”

                He laughed. She was in good humor. “I try.”

                “Well,” She looked at her wrist and flung it down by her side, “I gotta go. But if you’re my new neighbor, I have to tell you some cryptic Californian things: one, when you kiss the slug, be chaste, and also there’s _maybedefinitleymermaidshere_ anyways! See you, McCree!” She turned and bolted for her house.  McCree felt tired, and dizzy. He felt around in his pocket for a lighter, realizing that the girl probably didn’t have a watch on her hand. Unable to find the lighter or matchsticks, he took the cigarette out and flipped it between his fingers, walking along the shore.

                Mermaids. He couldn’t get his mind off of the mermaids part of what she was saying. Although Lena looked like someone who was a weird old lady trapped in the body of a twenty-something, he couldn’t help but feel _somewhat_ excited. But just as well as he knew that sharks wouldn’t directly attack humans, McCree also knew that mermaids were certainly not real. Nope, never, not a chance, holy shit.

                What was _that_?

                There was something in the water. Definitely something. Something way too big to be taking a quick old nap in the tide pools. Something with a tail like a massive eel and _Oh my God it’s eating a human holy shit._

                McCree ran over, every cell in his body freaking out in synch. He was on autopilot as he neared the tide pool, his body working faster than his head as he climbed over the sharp bubbly rocks and star fish. Normally, he would have started getting worried about the ocean, as its tides were more violent over the pools, but there was a half naked man in front of him with his legs in the mouth of a …

                In the mouth of a what.

                It didn’t look like a mouth, but like the end of a fish. But what other explanation would there be for what he was seeing. Unless.

                “Sweet baby Jesus.” He gasped kneeling beside the creature. For having its face stamped on a rock, it was surprisingly unbruised and bloodied. He looked to his right and left, checking to see if anyone was there. Then, he gently kicked it with his shoe, on the chest. It flinched and he fell back, ass in the water, a big prickly purple thing right next to him. He yelped.

                The thing began to move, too human to be a monster, but too monster to be a human. He was almost disgusted as it pulled itself up on its hands. McCree only understood that he was less than a foot and a half from it, and as it saw his eyes, it slipped back into the next pool, head low to the ground.

                “Hey, uh, buddy?” McCree began timidly. “You doin’, uh, okay?”

                “Who are you?” It asked, its eyes just visible over the rock.

                “McCree.” He answered without hesitation.

                The half human half- half fish?- peered at him through the crag. It had graying black hair that was pulled into a tight pony tail at the top of his head, and some rather impressively styled facial hair. McCree was perplexed. “Do you guys have… like, shaving cream?” He didn’t mean to ask.

                “What.”

                “Y’know, for your-” McCree touched his chin, “Yeah?”

                The fish thing looked like it was about to laugh. It turned away from him, hand over its mouth. He saw his body move without him willing it to again and he found himself sitting on top of the rock in front of him, by the fish.

                “What’s your name?” He asked.

                The… mermaid pushed himself over to the other side of the small valley of rocks, his more fishy half only barely dipped in the water. He looked frayed, McCree saw, in person, the ribbon in his hair frayed and a cut down his jaw. He flicked his eyes around, watching the tides pull in and out along the surf.

                “Shimada Hanzo.”

                McCree thought for a moment, “Do all mermaids have Japanese accents?”

                “Only ones from Japan.”

                He smiled, he was talking to a mermaid! When he called Angela- she wouldn’t believe half of what he was saying!

                “Well I'll be damned. So that means your first name’s-“ He looked to the side, figuring it out, “Hanzo, right? I’m right, right?”

                “Correct.” The fish had begun to smirk. A gale thrust McCree off of his rock and head-first into the last pool, making him flail wildly. The mermaid- no, Hanzo, laughed, pulling himself over and lending a hand. McCree took it, taken aback at how non-human it felt. The texture was somewhere between seal skin and sandpaper.

                He was hoisted back up on the rock, now completely soaked, feeling rather uncomfortable in salt watered jeans and a wet hat. “Well, thanks, partner.” He stopped, “Hey, nice tats.”

                Hanzo looked at his arm. A full sleeve depicting some great dragon was crawling up his arm. It was beautiful. “Thank you. I like your hat.”

                “Aw, shucks,” He took it off, holding it over his heart. It was too wet for his head anyways. “I can’t believe I’m talking to a mermaid,”

                “I cannot believe I’m talking to a human.” Hanzo repeated.

                “Wait, are you- are humans mythical creatures to you guys? That’s so cool.”

                Hanzo shook his head, “No, no, but mermaids are not supposed to talk to humans.” He looked behind them, straight into the June gloom, pointing at the dull outline of a ship. “You see that?”

                “Yessir.”

                “They hunt us.”

                McCree’s hat dropped, falling on top of a starfish and into the water. Hanzo picked it up and handed it to him, now he understood.

                “You were running from them?”

                He nodded, “Humans are- humans are dangerous.” The solemn expression on his face was stern, practiced, sad. Something had happened. Hanzo reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, missing as Hanzo pushed back. “I have to-“ He looked at McCree, his face worried, “I have to go.”

                “Wait!” McCree burst as Hanzo slipped off into the water, gone.

                He sighed and sunk back against the rock, water swishing up to his chest. He pulled the box of cigarettes out of his pocket, water swamped. He groaned as he rolled out of the tide pool, walking back to his house. There was no way this was the first day. There was no way California was this weird. He shivered at the ocean breeze as he opened the front door and slammed it shut.

…

                Hanzo didn’t come back to the pools the next day. He didn’t come back the day after that- or the day after _that._ Soon McCree grew tired of walking to the rocks every morning, and found himself at the end of season one of MacGyver. He still hadn’t grown a taste for avocados and, although Lena had popped in a few times, he was rather alone. Driving into town was alright, Lena had recommended a café that he had tried out, they had good sandwiches. But for the most part, he was bored.

                So. Bored.

                At the small library run by this old German man with a twinkle in his eyes, he had found a whole section of books on mermaids. Apparently, as the man told him, the town was somewhat famous in the area for their cryptids, especially mermaids. But, as he said, he thought, “My friend thinks they’re bullshit, but he says that the brownies trim his flowers, though, so I don’t know what to think,” he winked. McCree bought a cheesy sci-fi book written by a local author and the art book about mermaids. Along with the sandwich, he sat down at the park in the center of town, a bench in the middle of the slightly overgrown grass.

                “Hey, there!” He almost fell over. Lena sat next to him, still in her giant goggles and windswept do. “See you tried out Torbjorn’s.” She pointed at his meal.

                He looked down. “Yeah, I was kinda worried he’d get his beard in it, but maybe that adds to the taste.”

                Lena laughed, far harder than he expected. “That’s what I think! Anyways, kissed a slug yet?”

                McCree shook his head, setting down the book. “Is that some kinda weird Californian euphemism, or something?”

                “No,” she was dead serious, her smile instantly a stern expression. “Oh, jeez, I gotta go. Sorry, love!” She looked down at her arm. McCree laughed, no watch, just as he expected.

                “Where you always going so fast? I thought this town was supposed to be sleepy, or somethin’.”

                She waved her hand, “Oh, you know, places.”

                “Hey, Lena,”

                “Yeah-huh?”

                McCree took a bite of his sandwhich, “You know, what you said about mermaids?”

                “Yep!”

                “Yeah, well, what if I-“ He thought how to best say what he wanted to. Should he go clean and just recite what he had seen? Or should he just drop it.

                “I think they’re being hunted.” She said, leaning in. “There’s that ship out there, it never comes to shore. It looks like it’s for whaling, but that’s obviously illegal. You know what I think?” She said in one breath, “It’s the mermaids. Everyone around here knows they’re out there- few have seen them, but there’s obvious proof. I've got pictures! Now-“

                “I agree.”

                “What?”

                McCree smiled, “Lena, I totally agree.” He felt weird. This was the strangest position he had ever been in. Maybe moving here had been a good idea. “I saw one, he had- he had a Japanese accent?- I don’t know what that’s about, but- the point is he told me they were being hunted.”

                Lena smiled.

McCree had offered to drive her back to her house, but she said she wanted to run. He looked at her like she spoke in a foreign language. But, as he was driving into the garage, in the rearview mirror, he could see her going into her front door. He couldn’t even fathom how she got there that fast, but she seemed like the kind of person who had her ways. As he set the books on the counter and shuffled through the drawer under the counter for his lighter, there was a knock on the door.

                “Hey, cowboy!” He could hear her call from the other side, “Billy the Kid! McCree!”

                He swung open the door. She was in a team swimsuit and shorts, two buckets in one hand and two spades in the other. “Alright, pardner,” She tried to say. “Let’s go tide pooling!”

                McCree began to say something, Lena interrupted, “Come on, you’re cooped up in here all day, let’s go!”

                He let himself be dragged out of the house (only after changing into flip-flops and shorts) and taken up and over to the shore. The sight of the ocean still made his skin crawl, even if he had spent an afternoon on some rocks by it. Lena saw his skin prickle as the waves collapsed on their legs and led him to where it was dryer to walk.

“So what was he like, McCree?”

“You can call me Jesse, you know.”

She thought, “You sound more like a cowboy when you use your last name.”

He chuckled, their arms still linked together, “Alright, then, _pardner._ ”

She gave her loud chest- laugh. The way she laughed looked like it hurt, her whole body shaking around as she snickered. Lena was a nice person, a real nice person.

“Well,” McCree began, “He had a black tail- thought some giant eel was eating a person when I first saw him. He looked like he could’a been a WWE champion, or somethin’. It was wild. This great dragon sleeve, and he had his hair pulled back in a pony tail.”

Lena rolled her eyes, “Not what he _looks_ like, love, what he was like. Did he speak English? What’d he say?”

“Oh,” He furrowed his brows, “I asked him if they had shaving cream in the ocean. I don’t think he knew what that meant.”

She nodded, “Go on.”

“And, he seemed pretty old adamant at talking to ‘a human’.” He finger quoted, dropping Lena’s arm. “He said that the boat out there was hunting him. He looked pretty rough too.”

“That’s tragic. I’d punch that fisher in the face if I saw him.” She balled her hands into fists. “Oh, hey!” She perked up, “Looks like we’re here. Have you ever held a star fish?”

They spent the greater part of the afternoon wading around, Lena occasionally digging out tiny crabs with her fingers, tapping one on McCree’s shoulder. He yelped and brushed it off onto her. She talked about the ocean and her job as a marine biologist, collecting samples of mollusks in the tide pools and farther out in the surf. McCree talked about moving out for the summer, as his aunt’s friend wasn’t in the country this season. They didn’t talk much about mermaids, even though Lena seemed ecstatic to bring them up. Until.

                Until they saw him.

                McCree saw him first, swishing around in the waters just past the tide pools. He tugged Lena’s sleeve and walked over, dropping the spade and shovel, possessed by the ocean. “Sweet Jesus.”

                “Oh my God!”

                “Wait, wait Lena, I trust you, but give me a sec, okay, darlin’?” He stopped her, hands on her shoulder. She nodded in determination. “Thanks a bunch.”

                He turned and took a deep breath before kicking off his sandals and walking into the rocky surf. The mermaid saw him and swam up, still putting a distance of about ten feet between them. If McCree was honest with himself, he’d rather been jumping off the empire state building without a harness than standing up to his hips in ocean water. But the _mythical creature_ was less a few yards away from him.

                “McCree.” The mermaid- Hanzo rose out of the foamy surf.

                “You came.”

                “Who is that.” Hanzo said, not looking away.

                McCree turned, Lena about five feet behind him, “Jesus, Lena! I said stay put!”

                “Hi, there! I’m Lena.” She offered.

                “I know who you are.” Hanzo stiffened.

                “What-“ McCree whipped his head back.

                “Oh, that’s right! You’re the one who my dad was friends with, right?” She smiled, “Hanzo, right?”

                “Oh my God.”

                “Your father was a good man. You’ve grown a lot, Lena.”

                “Aw, thanks! Well now he’s a good man back in England, had enough of the US,” She chuckled, putting her hand out for Hanzo as he moved closer. They shook hands like it was a typical meeting between a family friend; McCree was standing away, absolutely shell shocked. “I’ve been trying to get this part of the sea protected from fishers, most of the town backs me, but I just can’t seem to get it passed. We’ve had three documents go through and all have been declined.”

                “Thank you for trying, that is rather amazing.” He smiled. If McCree wasn’t dizzy from seeing Hanzo again and about to vomit from standing in the ocean, he would have remarked on how nice Hanzo looked when he smiled, gentle, even.

                “I need to get out of here.” He mumbled, wading out.

                “Wait,” Hanzo said, making McCree halt. “Come back tomorrow.”

                He laughed, “Alright, but, can you come closer to the shore?”

                “I suppose? Why?”

                “He’s afraid of the water.” Lena announced.

                “Why _thank you_ , Lena.” He growled, “Yes, I am uncomfortable in the ocean. Okay? I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Lena,” She waved, “Bye, Hanzo,” He gave a smile. McCree relaxed enough to return one, then left to take a cold shower and change into some sweatpants.

McCree sat out on his porch, snuffing out a cigarette and making his way through a second cup of coffee in the early morning- only seven am. He had finished the book he bought and was now looking on at the ocean, strangely comfortable in the presence of so much water. It seemed unlikely, that in the two weeks of living at the summer home, meeting with a marine biologist, and spending the rest of the time either with a mermaid or at a sleepy seaside town walking around, he was growing less nervous. If he had to place the blame of the development on anything, it would have to be his eccentric goggle-wearing or handsome mermaid friends. What an odd group. And he hadn’t told anyone about it. He had meant to call up Angie on the first day, but ended up just texting her about the state of the house and VHS tapes he had found.

                They were his secret. His weird, weird secret.

                He especially enjoyed the second half of the secret: hanging out with Hanzo. He was gruff, but nice, and apparently kept up with baseball (Lena’s fault). They had even got him into Lena’s bathtub at one point, as a joke one night, but he was uncomfortable and they eventually threw him back into the sea. He was good natured about it, though, and, to be fair, both McCree and Lena were wasted. But when it wasn’t the three of them, it was the two, and he found those moments his favorite part of the week.

                McCree thought his tattoo was weird- are there dragons underwater? Hanzo thought his smoking habit was weird- it tasted disgusting. He agreed with his fishy friend, and then proceeded to take the cigarette he had given Hanzo and put it between his own teeth. Maybe it was because they were both so interested in each other, from a cultural standpoint, that made them become friends, but whatever it was, they were mutually happy with the ordeal.

                So it wasn’t any stretch that after another week (the third since he had given up on New Mexico), McCree had begun to feel nervous again about seeing Hanzo. He was smart, quick, witty, and reserved, but handsome, and, being honest, he wasn’t _supposed to be real._ He had begun to feel so flustered around him that when Hanzo asked if he wanted to go swimming he agreed immediately and then jumped into the ocean, only realizing after how bad of a plan that was. For one, it was night, and another, he was still afraid of the ocean, and could swim about as well as a drowning insect.

                “Here, this way,” Hanzo said, easily gliding backwards away from the shore. McCree swum forward, trying not to shake so bad he couldn’t move. Hanzo paused to let him catch up, then opened his hand, pulling out of the black water, “Take it.”

                McCree locked his hand around his. Hanzo smiled and plunged forward, McCree barely getting a gulp of air before being sucked under, eyes wide in fear. It burnt under the water, his heart rate going through the roof as he could feel the pressure in his ears grow. He felt rocks around him, unable to open his eyes, and then the break of water over his head. He gasped for air, panting wildly as Hanzo smiled. They were inside a rather large cave, underwater. McCree could faint.

                “Uh, it’s nice.” He said, not feeling in the least like it was nice.

                “I know you dislike swimming, but I wanted to show you this.” He nodded towards the small opening in the wall. Hanzo dove under and through the passage, McCree feeling like he had gotten _this far,_ so why not? Inside, the wall shone green from the illuminated water. The rocks here were luminescent, glimmering in the dark cave. Flowers grew along the corners, stark white and beautiful. He gasped.

                “It’s beautiful, darlin’.” McCree climbed up onto the sandy ledge at the far end of the room. He looked up and around, even the walls of rock were made out of the glowing mineral.

                Hanzo’s smile grew. He swam up to McCree and laid his head on his arms, next to the human. “I haven’t come here in years. It is still as beautiful as when I was young.”

                McCree’s hand had gone to touch Hanzo’s face, “Aw, don’t say that, you’re still young, pardner.”

                Hanzo laughed, “I’m two hundred years old.”

                “Oh, jeez.”

                He pulled himself up next to McCree, their heads a foot or two from the low ceiling. Hanzo looked gorgeous, the light hitting his cheeks, his eyes, he was radiant. Maybe it was the low oxygen levels, but he looked like he was blushing.

                “What’s got you all red?” McCree asked, tucking a loose strand of his hair behind his ear. Hanzo turned towards him.

                “I was thinking.”

                “’Bout what, now?”

                Hanzo’s eyes met him, “Of this.” He leaned in and kissed McCree.

                For a split second, McCree jumped. But he leaned in, and kissed Hanzo back.

                Man, California was weird.


End file.
